Teatro Martí: a decade of splendorous art

For Marcos and my Martiana family.

This February 24, 2024, the Teatro Martí reaches the tenth anniversary of its reopening. I am very happy to think that I worked in that beautiful coliseum as a senior specialist for nine years. In this space, which carries the vital weight of 139 years of history, one breathes art, "of all colors and also green", to paraphrase that title by Aldo López-Gavilán.

This reopening anniversary is like attending the staging of an adrenaline-filled sainete in 10 acts -I just invented the term. I think it fits, because there we experienced tragedies as painful and regrettable as the Saratoga Hotel explosion, but also, and above all, we enjoyed unimaginable situations in rehearsals and shows. Lights, sound, linoleum, cyclogram, intense work and a lot of life; the stomach rattling when the curtain opens; the concern for details that clouds the magnitude of the unrepeatable instant you live; stories that with the passing of the acts/years passed to the oral tradition in the form of theatrical legend, and if not ask Yaroldy Abreu, who fell into the pit looking for the key to his tumbadora in the middle of dismantling a cultural gala with the government of Japan. (Yes, it was Yaroldy that someone they told you once fell in the pit of the Martí).

The good thing is that by dusting off so many memories you give a new dimension to what you have lived and you recognize how lucky you have been. Scenic art is always ephemeral and that's why certain passages are blurred. You do not manage to locate if the day of the rehearsal with maestro Vitier -Sergio- the program was played from top to bottom, if it was tuned to 440 or 441, because at that time we had another Steinway, not the new one that, some time later, Salomon Mikowski generously donated. But you do vividly remember a lot of details. Like that the Small Cuban Suite The sound of Sergio Vitier's "La Bota" was marvelous, and also that one of the guests was Rolando Luna, who "bounced" accompanied by the National Symphony and a section of Afro-Cuban percussionists that made the audience enjoy (now that I think about it, this was Rolando's first time at the Martí).

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Memory is essentially nostalgic, especially when you regret not having taken pictures. This was Sergio Vitier's last concert, then we know he left for another dimension. And we had him there! With his inseparable Lilian in our office, with that astonishing simplicity and humility that genuine intellectuals overflow. I remember that he meditated on his words and that, when he finally spoke, he seemed to be invaded by a kind of musical trance; then he would release a devastating phrase that, inevitably, made you laugh.

With the Martí, a cultural symbol that rightfully belongs to Cuba and Cubans was rescued. Eusebio Leal had the vision, determination and energy to fight for three long decades to achieve it. In 2014 we felt the pride, the immense emotion before the splendor of the great restored work.

But Leal was very clear that the theater should not only be concerned with evoking its glorious past but also, and especially, with opening up to all the valuable contributions of modernity through its programming and its artists.

And so we tried to shape it. The weeks and months were mixing with each other, we lost the sense of time because the commitments began to increase. We hosted festivals, galas, culture weeks, zarzuelas, musical theater, contemporary dance, flamenco, jazz, symphonic music, and a thousand other things... We put together crazy work plans, we extended schedules, we looked for space in the calendar for everything aesthetically valuable that appeared along the way and we broke thousands of times with the sacred Monday off.

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Without false modesty, I believe that we became Martians of action and heart, we became "the Theater of Yes" (it was the teacher Daiana García who affectionately gave us this nickname).

But none of it was easy. The technical shortcomings of sound and lights have always existed; the energy regulations for the use of air conditioning as well. Salaries do not reflect the human cost of having more than 100 performances in a year with only 22 workers on staff; people divided between La Lisa, Marianao, Alamar, La Palma, Guanabacoa, who have to return home after 11:00 p.m. and come back the next day because there is a show all weekend.

When you think about all this, you become convinced that staying afloat even being "El Martí" is not an easy task. It has been years of "pincha descomunal", (as my dear Marcos Rodriguez would say), and thanks to that brave and crazy troop of technicians, candlemakers, ticket takers and assistants, a troop that silently allows everything to be possible, the coliseum on Zulueta Street stays alive.

This will to prevail is reinforced by three key pillars: the management, protection and sustainability of the Office of the City Historian, even in the most adverse economic conditions; the fraternity we achieved with our artists, directors, groups that have made this venue their true home and as such have committed themselves to the quality of their works. Last but not least, the large audience that attends each of the performances: families, groups of grandparents, young people and adults whose loyalty and need for a recreational space of high values must be preserved at all costs.

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Without theaters there is no space for the artistic fact, aesthetic education or the emotional memory of a country. Without theaters, the immaterial glory of what happens on stage is painfully blurred because those who can remember it are disappearing. The moral and cultural damage is usually irreversible.

Leal's last forces were directed towards another sacred temple of Havana's art: the Campoamor Theater. An architectural jewel that, like the Payret, the Gran Teatro de La Habana, the Amadeo Roldan, the Casona de Linea, the Mella Theater and the Karl Marx Theater, is suffering an alarming spiral of deterioration and silence.

Fortunately, the Martí Theater rose and continues, ten years later, with its brave team of sane madmen, its cats and ghosts who have been able to protect and preserve that splendor against all odds. Behind this anniversary there is much life to honor, much art to celebrate and preserve.

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Postscript:

In these ten years we have lamented the passing of valuable names connected to the recent history of Martí:

Eusebio Leal; Rosita Fornés; Roberto Chorens; Sergio Vitier; Alicia Alonso; the Spanish dancer José Barrios; the Italian photographer Alfredo Cannatello, who took the first official photos of the newly restored building; the Italian philanthropist Vando Martinelli; Enrique Águila, a very loyal lover and unconditional supporter of the theater; and our dear and always willing cleaning assistant and camerinista for several years, Martha. I thank life for having had the opportunity to collaborate with them and this text serves to honor their memory.

Photo: courtesy of the author